


A Stolen Moment

by LeoKRogue



Category: Hades (Video Game 2018), Hades by Supergiant Games
Genre: F/M, Supergiant Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 06:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,843
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17401565
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeoKRogue/pseuds/LeoKRogue
Summary: They always fought. One of them always lost. They both always suffered for it.





	A Stolen Moment

He perused Charon’s shop, like every time.

He fished out whichever god’s trinket the boatman of the accursed river happened to be carrying, like every time. 

He strengthened himself, like every time.

He approached the gate to the next room like always, and walked through its soul-chilling threshold, like always.

He looked at her like always, almost forgetting to hide the yearning and the wonder in his eyes, remembering just in time to put his guard up.

Megaera didn’t taunt him like always.

Despite standing absolutely still, he felt as if he’d just tripped, and had to right himself.

One sentence. Just one, was enough to dizzy him.

“Why must we always fight...?”

Zagreus scratched back into his memory and found it tough to remember the last time she sounded so sad. Now, she sounded positively frozen, devastated.

Needy, if he didn’t know her better. Did he know her better...? 

He looked at her whip, which she held slack and loose in her grip, then back up to her eyes which seemed to glance away from him, hurt that he’d reacted in such a warlike manner so instinctively.

It wasn’t his fault! They fought each other, it’s-- it’s what they did. It’s what they always did. Every time, right? Every time... But not this time.

“Megaera...” he approached her, slowly, apprehensive. A white-knuckled grip still held the sword’s handle and it was only when he saw her bend down to leave her whip next to one of the columns lining the large rectangular chamber that he loosened his grasp on his own weapon.

She maintained eye contact with Zagreus, and now memory returned more readily. His heart dragged his being back to a time when staring into each other’s eyes didn’t come with so much resentment and so much pain. The underworld was not a happy place, but sometimes it could be peaceful. When walking along the shores of its various dreadful rivers, by her side in particular, it could be almost... Beautiful. Beauty wasn’t the first thing that came to mind when he faced her, survival was often at the forefront, after all. But it was always the second or third. Always. 

It was always wiped out by the need to wage war, the thrum and crackle of blood-crystals, the ripples of the air cracking as her whip cleaved through it. It was easy to take a moment to indulge in her form, to look upon it like he wished she’d still look at him sometimes, because it had gotten to be safe, and comfortable, knowing that she’d lash out at him and it’d all be stowed away until the next time they met. The more capable Zagreus had become in ascending this hellish plane, the less often that moment would come. 

This time there was nothing to take him away from his emotion, his longing.

There was no combat to drag his mind away from wonder, from what might have been and what might one day still be, again. He fidgeted. 

“Oh don’t worry, Zagreus, I’m not going to attack you.”

“You’re not...?” 

“No. Come. Sit.”

“Well, alright. I wasn’t worried about you attacking me.”

He sat down, and she sidled closer, their sides touching and flush with one another. 

“A little cocky, are we? Just because you’ve won the last three times, Zag, doesn’t mean you would have won now.”

“Well, first of all, I probably would have won now.”

“The gods have been kind this time, then?”

“That they have, but besides that, what I was about to say was...” 

“Yes?”

“Well, Meg...”

“Go on, Zagreus.” 

“I may have been more comfortable with you attacking me, truthfully. You know, it’s the thing to do, and I’d really gotten quite used to the flow of things. I suppose you’re unpredictable like that.”

She stared at him and her eyes narrowed. Zag’s widened. Before, Meg would narrow her eyes when she didn’t want him to see something. And usually it was something that was his fault. 

“Meg, I hope I didn’t hurt your fee--”

“Shut up, fool, or you may get your wish,” her voice shook with rage, threaded with thin sorrow. He glanced at her clenched fist, saw her reach for her whip and close her hand around it, all while his moved back to his blade... And she let go. And so did he. 

Zagreus put his hands up and breathed out slowly. He would have acted confused but he thought he had a pretty good idea of what was going on.

“I miss you too, Meg.”

“God, you’re insufferable,” she murmured.

“Or maybe you’re just that obvious,” he suggested.

“Maybe.”

She put her head on his shoulder and he tilted his head to rest against hers. 

“This chamber is cold, Zag.”

“I don’t tend to notice...”

“That’s because you’re only here when we fight. When we fight, we move, we breathe, we run. The magic of the gods and the curses of the underworld clash together and expel heat. When we fight, Zag, you wouldn’t notice it at all. But when you’re gone... When I have to wait for you, alone. That’s when the chill sets in.” 

It had been a long time since Zag heard Meg’s voice be so soft, so tired, so child-like. 

“Meg, we...”

“We can’t, Zag. I know. Gods damn it, I know. But...”

“But I--”

“--wish.”

“Yeah. I wish too.”

Her icy fingers stroked down his arm and turned his hand over so they could interlace with all of his. Each of them knew that Hades would likely cast his gaze to this desolate chamber, which even now felt more appreciable in each other’s presence. They didn’t have a great deal of time.

“Zagreus.”

“Megaera.”

She kissed him. He was only surprised for a moment, because he knew time was short. He kissed back. He kissed back like he wouldn’t ever get another chance, because likelihoods were high that he truly wouldn’t. She put her legs on both sides of him and took his wrists up to press them against the column, above their heads. Kissed him again. More. He gave her his tongue, helpless, and she took it, sucking on it a little. Megaera’s hungers were impossible to fulfill, but Zag had never minded. 

She stopped. She stopped so he could wrap his arms around her, so she could rest her head against his chest. So they could just breathe, and little more. 

“Meg.”

“Zag.”

“Tell Hades that you’ve discovered I have a weakness to fire.”

“But you don’t. Do you think he’d be stupid enough to be fooled?”

“My father doesn’t know anything about me, Meg. I can all but guarantee he’d not realize he’s being played.”

“Thank you, but--”

“Shush. I relate, Meg, don’t think I don’t. Even the flames of Asphodel feel cold without you, sometimes.”

“Z-Zag...!” 

“Yes, I really do mean that,” his soft, whispery voice assured her. Gods, she loved his voice so much. Always had. His calm, certain tones, his observant mind, and how he always knew what to say, what was logical and what made everyone feel better. Her, most of all. 

She felt his hand reach up to stroke her hair, like he once did, that day so long ago after they realized their goals put them at odds with one another and nothing would be the same again. She cried that day. Meg never cried. That’s why Zag’s own tears had to be silent. He couldn’t bear to show her he hurt just as badly.

That was just the way of things, they’d both accepted in time. As far as she was concerned, in that moment he had chosen to be her enemy. Escaping the underworld mattered more to him than she did. He didn’t think Meg had ever forgiven him for that schism that had seared itself between them. He was happy to be, in some tiny, insignificant way, wrong about that.

They stayed like that, they didn’t know for how long, but it wasn’t for long enough. 

The voice of Hades boomed from above and everywhere around.

“Megaera! What is going on down there?! Neither one of you has walked out of the Pool of Styx in my House. Am I going to have to come down there myself? Hurry up and finish the boy off. Dare not dally, or the consequences will be worse.” 

Meg lifted her face from Zag’s chest, and under the streaks of tears on her face, he saw that her eyes had twisted from sorrow back to wrath. She flipped backwards away from him, taking her whip with her, and he instinctively thrust his palm toward her ascent, casting out a Blood Crystal which lodged itself into her chest, giving him enough time to roll sideways, sword in hand. 

They fought. And it was all so wrong.

He saw her hesitate and take a hit she should have seen coming. He couldn’t blame her because he walked into her spinning flourish head-on. He was sloppy, and so was she, but the gods really had been kind. To him, anyway.

As Meg lay bleeding on the ground, Zagreus knelt next to her, half-cuddling her and putting her head on his knee as she reached up to stroke his face. 

“I... Wanted to keep you here too. It wasn’t all... Orders.”

She breathed out and spat out a trickle of blood. Zagreus wiped her mouth and cradled her closer. He couldn’t say anything. This time, he didn’t know what to say. None of it felt appropriate.

“If you get out, will you come back...? Will I see you again?”

“You will, Meg. I promise.”

“Then you also promise me... You claw your way out of this place. You reach the surface.”

“I’ll do that, Megaera. I will. I’ll get stronger. I’ll come back for you.”

She put something in his hand. “I’ll... Wait for...” 

And she was blood, and blood was her, and she seeped through Zag’s fingers and crept through the cold tiles below them, her essence making its way back to the House of Hades. All that was left in his palms was a little earring, in the shape of a skull.

Zagreus stood up, and wondered, as he hadn’t wondered before, what he was really sacrificing every time he sloppily gave his life to one of the wretches in the coming chambers. He’d made a promise now, and one that wasn’t just to himself. With blade in hand, and the earring he’d received from Meg, he moved forward. Always, always forward. He opened the gate, like always, healed himself at the Fountain, like always... And he knew that eventually, he would die, like always. But from now on his enemies would have to work harder to get it done. That much, he could give her. He moved slower through the hallway to the next area, peered into the glass case of keepsakes, and noticed how right Meg had been. 

It really was cold here, but he was glad he felt it, because she did too.


End file.
